[The floating sausages nearly dissuaded Samus too, but the promise of free beer beckoned her in like a Siren. She was no stranger to the other oddities this cafe presented. After catching herself in a mirror, there was only a momentary stare before Samus gave her green-haired reflection a very been there, done that shrug of her shoulders.
Mildly annoying, but she was betting that it would end when the night was through.
Or she could drink herself into such a stupor that she wouldn't even realize it was there. Yes, she hadn't done something like that in a very long while. Much less in public venue. Sounded terribly irresponsible; about as irresponsible as crazy floating sausages in the air everywhere. Samus swatted another one away that meandered a little too close to her face.
Oh, look at that. Apparently her finger nails were green to match now too...
Green like the hard alcohol she drank and drank after she settled at the bar. Samus had lost count of the empty bottles and shot glasses that had collected around her before she began to feel a warm buzz and her inhibitions melting away. Like she could drink anyone under the table. She could totally drink anyone under the table. She could bet them and bet lots of money and get lots of money for drinking them under the table. And beer. She'd get more beer. The woman seemed insatiable.
She could take anyone on, she could take the whole bar on all by herself and she could do it one handed too. Yes. This sounded like a sublime way to for Samus Aran to spend her free Saturday: drunken arm wrestling.
She'd stare at the closest person.
Then give a quick, half-nod that would have been a non-verbal equivalent of a instigative slur (and could of perhaps been easily mistaken for another kind of non-verbal instigative signal). Tempted? Curious? Of course you are. Miss Aran just gave a smirk at you, like how a cat smirks at a cornered mouse. You, yes you.
Then she'd place her elbow up on the bar, hand sky-ward and palm turned to face her opponent, fingers massaging the air.
A classic proposition, really. One that shouldn't need any further explanation if her pink-flushed cheeks weren't an indication of it already.]
no subject
Mildly annoying, but she was betting that it would end when the night was through.
Or she could drink herself into such a stupor that she wouldn't even realize it was there. Yes, she hadn't done something like that in a very long while. Much less in public venue. Sounded terribly irresponsible; about as irresponsible as crazy floating sausages in the air everywhere. Samus swatted another one away that meandered a little too close to her face.
Oh, look at that. Apparently her finger nails were green to match now too...
Green like the hard alcohol she drank and drank after she settled at the bar. Samus had lost count of the empty bottles and shot glasses that had collected around her before she began to feel a warm buzz and her inhibitions melting away. Like she could drink anyone under the table. She could totally drink anyone under the table. She could bet them and bet lots of money and get lots of money for drinking them under the table. And beer. She'd get more beer. The woman seemed insatiable.
She could take anyone on, she could take the whole bar on all by herself and she could do it one handed too. Yes. This sounded like a sublime way to for Samus Aran to spend her free Saturday: drunken arm wrestling.
She'd stare at the closest person.
Then give a quick, half-nod that would have been a non-verbal equivalent of a instigative slur (and could of perhaps been easily mistaken for another kind of non-verbal instigative signal). Tempted? Curious? Of course you are. Miss Aran just gave a smirk at you, like how a cat smirks at a cornered mouse. You, yes you.
Then she'd place her elbow up on the bar, hand sky-ward and palm turned to face her opponent, fingers massaging the air.
A classic proposition, really. One that shouldn't need any further explanation if her pink-flushed cheeks weren't an indication of it already.]